When You’re A Drug Addict, All Your Friends Die
No one knows how to prepare for this cycle of pain
My girlfriend told me that every time she would prepare a shot of heroin, she hoped, truly and deeply in her heart, that it would be the one to kill her.
The first time I smoked cocaine, there was the screech of a train whistle in my ears, and my heart pounded so hard I thought for sure I would die of a heart attack. I wasn’t scared, I didn’t mind.
Drug addicts die. It’s a part of the territory.
What people don’t seem to understand is that no one wakes up one day and decides that they want to be a drug addict. Most of us have experienced a level of pain in our lives that welcomes death as the ultimate relief. Getting high or drunk just numbs us in between the parenthesis of life and death.
Recovery is healing. Recovery is having the courage to face the excruciating internal pain, work through it, and come out the other side a better person. The hope is that through healing these wounds, we stop wishing for death and stop numbing our pain. This is no easy feat, and a lot of us never make it.
All my friends are dead
It started with Holly, a girl I knew from the swim team. I remember the year she became thin…
